


Switched for The Worst

by MrscursHere



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Mess, Exhaustion, Gen, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Overworking, Young Sides (Sanders Sides)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrscursHere/pseuds/MrscursHere
Summary: Patty cake, Patton cake?Shake my hand.Rolling the dice.There's a snake in my hands.What if, when there was only feelings and thought, Logic and Morality, they switched their functions. What if, in truth, Logan actually represents the heart whilst Patton represents the mind. And when will the other sides come to find that they are lying.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Secrets, secrets, are no fun,  
> Tell me now or else were done.  
> -Roman

Shoes clicked clacked across the wet tiles.

Sitting alone in the empty space of the mind scape, with only a few working rooms and shut doors, sat Logan and Patton. Or, at least Logan was sitting, Patton was pacing the floor, talking a mile a minute.

"Maybe we should invite the King for a visit. Give him a warm welcome!" The side tried to do a handstand to prove his point, further slipping and landing in an ungracious heap by the door. Logan winced, pulling his cap farther down his head. He scrunched his eyebrows in thought.

"Strictly maybe. We dont know how often the King will visit. I'm pretty sure hes still in what he calls the imagination." Logan, lowered his always shaking hands to his lap, smiled politely as he watched Pat get up, sorry eyes glistening, "You'll have to convice him your company is worthwhile."

"You mean our company, right?!" Patton chided, and Logan silently corrected himself with a quick nod of approval. Not that he had much else better to do.

"Hmmm" Patton laid himself back across the floor, mumbling ideas to Logan, who gave no answers. "Baking, I'm not very good at that, making clothes. No way, I'd cut my itsy bitsy fingers off."

Logan sighed, "Swordplay is out, then. And I always wanted to sought out a dragon." He hummed softly to himself, determination clear in his eyes, "One day."

By the end of their "discussion", they were no closer to finding a way of getting The Good Kings attention. So, somewhat put out, Logan stood up to grab them something from the kitchen. But, the beautiful winged mini statue caught his eyes. It was a present, oddly enough, from The King himself. Like a welcoming gift in a way, but also the opposite. Each detail stuck out to him, and carefully reached out, moving the bottom around. Sliding it slowly in all directions.

Wings.

Logan blinked adorably, his look of infatuation dissolving to a more practiced smile, "Patty, Patty." The emotional sides eyes widened, jumping slightly, "Yeah Lo." Curious, and slightly concerned, by the bright look in Logics eyes, Patton could only wait.

"Our wings shape and size directly correlate to our ability to Thomas. So what would happen if we switched." Patton gave him an incredulous look, "You remember that. Gosh, when I first came about and was told everything I could barely remember my ability." There was pause, "Will it be enough to get Kings attention."

Logan shrugged. Patton gave a sheepish look back.

The two took center stage of a room with no audience. Hand in hand, openly smiling.

"You sure, Pat. If you don't think we shou-"

"I trust you."

Lightly, they leaned their foreheads together. Tightly gripping each others hands, they embraced, ready for whatever would happen.

Light pierced the surface of air around them. And ended in black, with them both laying on the ground, wings open.

If anyone had seen before, they would know that Patton was the one with angel wings and Logan known for his bat like ones. Or, if they pealed back their well shut eyes they would see that Logans were now brown and the other bright blue.

Eeny meeny miny mo  
I have never seen it snow.  
Cry so harsh and smile so bright  
Who is dark and who is light.

Amongst the sides.


	2. borrowed lines.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shimmer, slimmer, golden delight.  
> Costumes changed and fear of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have small ideas of what I'm going to.

The King had a...reaction of sorts to their stories.

He'd spoken little to Logan or Patton after the switch, as if he was refusing to acknowledge. In all honestly, other than the wings and eyes, neither appeared all that different, still trying to help Thomas in their own ways. Logan kept to his facts and reasons and Patton kept holding onto ideas of good intentions and kindness. Both could be found scouring books, full of fascinating points to back up their hopes and guidlines for Thomas's life. 

Today, they were outside. The space they resided in was, and is still referred to, as the Imagination. Just months ago, neither could quite comprehend being here, actually here. As the King had been ignoring them both for some time now, saying proudly that he had far more important things to do. Neither new what a dragon witch was, but they didn't want to find out either. 

But still, back to the main point at hand, The King had scoffed at both their explanations, saying that the deep inner mechanics of a side takes far more effort to turn. "You've probably just switched one of your lowly functions, since you don't just represent "Thought" and "Feelings." And thats going to be a difficult thing to deal with." Logan simply leaned further in his chair, both to move his knight and so The King would look him in the eye. 

"We will deal with that scenario when we get to it, I promise you. No need to worry." It was a moment that The King remembered later on that night, as he'd never heard his new friend speak so full of...you-know-what.

Still, real problems didn't start untill Thomas started middle school. The king split into two, and long nights were spent of Patton overthinking and rushing to do something, anything to help, and Logan crying silently as he rushed through Thomas's new assignments. Logan is still Logic, Patton is still Mortality. Yet, both had a harder time with their abilities because of their youngest ones being out of reach. 

Sometimes, it wasn't the loss of The King that hit them, more the idea of what that means for Thomas. Which is somehow worse. 

However, one day, a late rainy tuesday night after Thomas came home from a showing of a space related movie, Patton heard a knock.

The knock, by itself, is harmless. Just hand on wood. But the implication...?

Patton tiptoed, light on his feet, to the locked door. Logan, being the light sleeper he is, followed as such. 

'Just, rip off the bandaid, and if it hurts, bite your tongue,' Patton thought, turning the knob and taking a step back.

Standing their was a boy with moppy light brown hair from the rain, dressed in a white flowy robe with a red bow strapped on. He looked nervous, despite the fact that he was so obviously freezing from the rain, the shivering was a dead givaway.

Mystey kid took a step back, but Logan pushed past Patton and gently grabbed his hand, muttering about a blanket and a fresh change of clothes to Patton. Morality didn't argue. 

After about thirty minutes, Mystery kid sat atop the kitchen couter, feet hovering over the ground. He wasn't very tall. He was clutching one of Pattons doggie blankets with a fierce grip, a thin bright star covered shirt and black pants as a replacement. For now.

Logan was pacing the kitchen, asking conversatal questions that Mystery Kid had no answer for. He was so stresses out that he'd forgotten to tie up his wings, and Mystery Kid watched him, fascinated. He didn't have any wings, just a sword. A sword he didn't know how to use.

Patton, accompanying Thomas main train wreck of thoughts, the darker ones delt with in his sleep, asked for his name.  
Logan stopped pacing, his wings flaring up in wait and curiosity.

"Roman. Creativity...a-a half of The King."


End file.
